Angel of Mercy
by Michael2
Summary: After a disabled girl dies in a nursing home, the Special Victims Unit investigates allegations of rape
1. Chapter 1

_In the criminal justice system,_ _sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous._ _  
_ _In New York City_ _, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members_ _of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit._ _These are_ _their_ _stories_ _._

oooooooooo

 _It's still sad._

 _Fourteen is too young to die._

Heather Fitzmaurice looks at the girl lying in the bed. Her green eyes are now closed. Her short red hair is tied in a ponytail. She is short and obese, and her head is abnormally large.

"Oh Claire," says Fitzmaurice, a tear flowing down her cheek. "May you see, run,. And play like normal children."

She caresses the dead girl one last time. As she brushes her hand against the belly, she feels movement.

She places her finger on Claire's wrist, and does not feel a pulse.

She presses against the belly. Something…or someone..is moving there.

"Call an ambulance!" she yells.


	2. Chapter 2

ST. ANNE'S MEDICAL CENTER

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

THURSDAY, JULY 24

The corridors of the hospital are busy, with nurses and doctors in their white outfits, as well as patients in various types of clothes, moving around.

Among the visitors to the hospital are New York Police Detectives Odafin Tutuola and Sam Bullard of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit, a unit that investigates allegations of sex crimes. They are both dressed in suits.

The two detectives reach a room identified by a sign titled "Maternity Ward". There are visitor seated in the waiting area, some of them mothers with newborn infants. Posters adorn the white walls, all providing advice on how to care for newborn infants.

Fin shows his badge to a white-clad nurse sitting behind a desk at the nurse's station. The nurse leads the two detectives to one of the rooms, after they all wiped their hands with hand sanitizer from one of the dispensers mounted on the wall.

A blond-haired woman, clad in a casual blouse and knee-length skirt, stands by the door.

"Heather Fitzmaurice," she says as soon as Tutuola and Bullard show their badges. "Director of the Angels Pediatric Nursing Center."

"Could you tell us what happened?" asks Fin.

"It's a bit complicated. I run a nursing facility for severely disabled children. We do our best to alleviate their suffering, but sometimes we lose. We..we lost Claire Duffield maybe an hour ago." Fitzmaurice wipes a tear from her cheek. "It's just so sad when someone dies at such a young age. But I happened to feel something moving in her stomach. Itwas a baby. We managed to get her here…there was an emergency C-section. He was a boy. A perfectly healthy boy. He's with his grandparents."

The two detectives look through the door and see a couple, the man sporting red hair and the woman dark hair, both appearing to be in their late forties to early fifties, cradling an infant.

"And you don't know who the father is," says Bullard.

"No. Claire wasn't able to go out on her own, and the boys living in the center were in no position to go and sneak into her room on their own either. I think she was raped."

"Listen," Sam says to Heather in a soft tone, looking into her eyes. "You did your best. There's no doubt you are dedicated to those kids. Now let us do our best so we can catch the pervert who did this."

He and fin enter the room to talk to the Duffields.

"We're sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Duffield," says Fin. "I have a son myself."

"And I lost my boy three years ago," says Sam.

"Claire's passing was peaceful," says Mrs. Duffield. "We did our best to make her comfortable,. It was the only thing we could do for her for her entire life."

"Why was she in the nursing center?"

"Claire had disabilities since birth. She could not walk or talk, and had to be fed through a tube. There was no hope of her getting better, no hope of her having a normal life."

"I understand," replies Detective Bullard. "We all want the best life for our kids."

Mrs. Bullard holds her grandson. "At least a part of her still lives on. Maybe he will have a better life than his mother ever could."

"Did Claire have any visitors aside from the staff?" asks Detective Tutuola.

"Just us," says Mr. Duffield.

Fin walks out of the room and speaks with Fitzmaurice. "We'll need copies of Claire's medical records, as well as the names of those who would have had access to Claire in the past year or so."

"I'll be happy to cooperate," replies Fitzmaurice.

Ooooooooo

ANGELS PEDIATRIC NURSING CENTER

Fin and Sam walk through the corridors of the nursing center. The lobby had a waiting room with plush leather seats, magazines and newspapers on a table, and a vending machine with various drinks. The nurse's station looked similar to that of the ones in St. Anne's. The place, while clean, does not have as antiseptic a feel as the hospital.

The two SVU detectives walk past a young man in a tan short pushing a cart packed with canisters. Heather Fitzmaurice leads them to an office. It looks like a typical office, with desks and file cabinets and various office equipment, such as computers and monitors and printers.

"Here is where we do all the paperwork needed to keep this place running," says Fitzmaurice. "Jackie, could you make copies of the staff and volunteer files for the two detectives here."

"Sure, it'll take a few minutes" replies Jackie, a woman in her early twenties wearing a short skirt and blouse. She goes to a computer on top of one of the desks and soon a laser printer at the far end prints out sheets of paper.

"Here are the files for all of the staff as well as registered volunteers," says Jackie, taking the papers from the printer and handing them to Detective Bullard. "The staff files have full information including employment history and address; the volunteer files only have names, telephone numbers, dates of birth, addresses, and expiration dates."

"We require volunteers to register," says Heather. "We require names, phone numbers, even fingerprints. We do not allow volunteers convicted of sex offenses nor domestic violence. We require reregistration after one year, to do a background check and see if anything new comes up."

Minutes later, Fin and Sam walk outside towards the Ford Crown Victoria that they use on official business.

"Any thoughts on your first deployment?" asks Fin.

"Still trying to get used to it," answers Sam. "I want to help kids. Ever since my son died, I'm trying to find a purpose. I hope that me being with SVU helps that."

"I can't imagine how it feels."

"Anyway, we do have little baby Duffield. If we ran DNA on all staff and volunteers, we can at least exclude them, if we don't find the culprit among them."

Oooooooooo

NEW YORK CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT PRECINCT 16

SPECIAL VICTIMS' UNIT SQUAD ROOM

"And that is everything," says Fin. "Every staff member, every volunteer. The database returned about three DUI's and one ten-year-old conviction for misdemeanor petty theft, but no sex offenses, not even peeing against a wall."

"All we have to do is get DNA from all male staff and volunteers," says Bullard.

"That could be a bit difficult," says SVU commander Sergeant Olivia Benson, sitting at a table inside the quad room with the other detectives from the Special Victims Unit. "I can call Barba for a warrant. Then again, there are so many people to test and even if we get the perp's DNA, he might be halfway across the country by the time testing is done."

"Sergeant, we got to catch this predator," says Sam. "He preyed on defenseless kids!"

"Sam," says Fin, "I agree. But you and I both agree that we would rather see him in Rikers than on _America's Most Wanted_.

"Detective Bullard, if you can come with me," says Benson.

The two of them enter a private office which has a desk and some file cabinets. The detective sergeant sits down behind her desk.

"I know about what happened with your son," she says. "Angels was where your son was cared for."

"They cared for him all his life, helped me and Donna with the burden," replies Sam. "That was where he died, peacefully, with those who loved him.

"Heather Fitzmaurice is a living saint. She dedicated her life to my son and those other children, making sure they don't suffer. And now what am I hearing? Some creep hurt one of these defenseless children? How long has he been doing this? What if…"

Detective Bullard contemplates the past week. He had transferred to SVU as a temporary replacement when a detective position in the unit became open. He recalls his first meeting with Sergeant Benson.

"I can't make any promises," the sergeant had said, "but it looks like we might keep you."

"I'll do my best," said Bullard.

The detective looks at the SVU squad leader. "I know that my judgment might be clouded in this case," he says.

"Don't worry. You have Fin for a partner."

"By the way, I heard about you taking in a foster son."

"Noah. His name's Noah."

"You're like Heather-someone who wants to relieve children's suffering. I think I'd like to work with your team."

Oooooooooo

ANGELS PEDIATRIC NURSING CENTER

SATURDAY, JULY 26

"Some of you must be wondering why you all had to come here for an emergency meeting, especially on a Saturday," says Heather Fitzmaurice.

Over three dozen people, some in nurses' outfits, others in casual clothes, are all gathered in a large room on the first floor. The room is used as a community center for the patients. Movies are often shown on a large television set. A shelf contains children's books. There had been birthday parties in this room, a practice expected to continue.

"A patient of ours was raped," continues Fitzmaurice.

She stays silent for a few seconds to let those words sink in. Confused murmurs quickly arise from the staff and volunteers gathered in the room.

"I promised full cooperation into this rape investigation. I invited the NYPD here to swab your cheeks for DNA. I have been assured there will be no legal repercussions for if you refuse to comply. If any of you do not want to provide a swab, the police will not stop you.

"But if you refuse to provide a swab, you will no longer be welcome here."

New York City Police Crime Scene Technicians, clad in black pants and black T-shirts and latex gloves, use cotton swabs to swan the mouths of each person in the room, carefully recording the names and taking pictures with smart phones. Detectives Tutuola and Bullard keep watch.

When that is done, the two SVU detectives walk through the facility. Bullard leads Tutuola to a room. The open door reveals a small room with a bed and a table with a stuffed bear on top.

"That was where my boy died," says Sam. "I wish I could have done something better."

"I'm sorry," replies Fin.

"I can only hope where he is now, he is laughing and running and playing."

"That was also where Claire Duffield died," says Fitzmaurice, joining the two detectives. "At least we saved the baby."

Oooooooo

BULLARD RESIDENCE

QUEENS, NEW YORK

Sam Bullard lies in his bed, shrouded in darkness. Memories of his first case with the Special Victims Unit still play.

He had, of course, been told of what sort of cases that the Special Victims Unit handles. He had excellent performance evaluations, which without a doubt was the reason why he was reassigned to SVU as a temporary replacement- with the possibility of a permanent assignment. He recalls his first meeting with Sergeant Benson, and being introduced to Detectives Tutuola and Rollins.

And yet…

"Anything wrong?" asks his wife Donna.

"My first case with SVU took me back to Angels. I still miss him."

"We have to be strong for our living children," says his wife.

More memories surface. Memories of doctor's visits, memories of being told that his son would never walk, never talk, never eat, require constant care. It was as if he had been born at the end of his life. Sam was glad that the boy was able to spend one of his final days in Central Park with parents and brothers and sisters.

Tears flow down his cheeks as he closes his eyes.

oooooooo

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUAD ROOM

MONDAY, JULY 28

"Miss Fitzmaurice called our office and told us that they were requiring their volunteers and staff to provide DNA samples to us," says Sergeant Olivia Benson. "In no way did we coerce her. In fact, she was eager to cooperate."

"It could still put us in a precarious position," says Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. "If the DNA from one of these people is matched with the Duffield baby and I prosecute, the defendant could have a plausible case of a 4th Amendment violation and get the DNA evidence thrown out. You did not have warrants."

"We did not force them to provide the samples," says Amanda Rollins, a detective with SVU. "They were free to leave. Their employer was making them do it, not us."

"And a defense attorney would argue that you pressured the nursing center to require the employees to provide the DNA samples," Barba points out. "It will be a messy suppression hearing."

"I doubt all of the volunteers were there Saturday," says Benson. "Some former volunteers must have ceased volunteering for various reasons."

"There was a nurse on staff who wasn't there," says Fin. "And for good reason. He's a lieutenant in the Navy Nurse Corps Reserve and was deployed in a sub two months ago. I did contact NCIS and told them we'd be sending a DNA sample from the Duffield baby to compare with the lieutenant's DNA on file."

"Good work, Fin," says the SVU sergeant. "Make sure the Navy runs that test." She speaks to the rest of the squad. "In the meantime, let us take a closer look at the registered volunteers who didn't show up, as well as the visitor logs for the past year."

Oooooooo

THURSDAY, JULY 31

"Crime lab has confirmed," Detective Tutuola announces to the others in the squad room. "None of the samples could have come from the father of the Duffield baby."

"The trail's gone cold," says Detective Bullard. He recalls hearing that NCIS came up with a negative match for the DNA sample sent to them.

 _What's next?_


	3. Chapter 3

NEW YORK CITY POLICE PRECINCT 16

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT SQUAD ROOM

THURSDAY, JULY 31

"So let's recap," says Detective Fin Tutuola, pointing to a timeline that he wrote on a whiteboard. "Baby Duffield was born last week, on July 24th. That means he was conceived- and his mother was raped- sometime from October to November of last year. Thanks to the nursing center's cooperation, we were able to exclude most of the volunteers and staff that were working there at the time."

"And what of those volunteers and staff that were not excluded?" asks Detective Sergeant Olivia Benson.

"We did gather background checks on them," says Detective Amanda Rollins. "It doesn't seem that we have probable cause to collect DNA samples. None of them have been accused of sexual assault either in New York or any other jurisdiction."

"Anything?" asks the SVU sergeant. "Any allegations of misconduct by the nursing center?"

"I spoke with Heather and no one has been dismissed for misconduct for over three years," says Detective Sam Bullard. "Angels isn't mentioned in our previous casefiles either."

"And what of the visitors' log?" asks Benson. "Delivery logs?"

"We have the logs from October and November," answers Fin. "The thing is, the center doesn't ask for ID for volunteers singing-in- just the volunteer badge. A rapist could put a fake name if he either sdtole or forged the badge."

"Bullard," asks Benson, "You used to visit the place a lot. How easily could a visitor rape one of the patients?"

"Not easily," replies Bullard. "The kids require a lot of care, so they get frequent visits from nurses and orderlies. Not much time to commit rape."

"But it could happen."

"It would take a great deal of luck." Sam nevertheless takes a look at the visitors' logs from October and November of 2013. He had placed a green checkmark next to the visitor names that could be matched to the phone number, and red marks next to the names that did not match the corresponding phone number, which could have multiple explanations, from a miswritten telephone number to a fake identity used by a rapist.

"Maybe there are some DNA samples we might not need a warrant to get," says Rollins. "I have an idea."

Ooooooo

ZOZO CHEMICAL SUPPLY COMPANY

RED HOOK, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

Detective Rollins parks the Ford Crown Victoria on the street in an industrial district, about a few yards behind a catering truck. She had reached Brooklyn from Manhattan via the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel, a tunnel under the mouth of the East River. She reads the sign on a large building identifying it as the warehouse and office for Zozo Chemical Supply. The detective double checks it with the information provided by the nursing center.

There is a truck parked by a receiving dock. People wearing hard hats and safety goggles and thick leather gloves walk around doing various tasks to keep the business going. Boxes and canisters are loaded onto the truck.

Rollins walks into the place, showing her badge. A man in a long sleeve white shirt and a hard hat walks to her.

"What can I do for you, Officer?" he asks, noting that Rollins appeared to be in her mid-thirties with blond hair.

"I'd like to speak to Andre Cortez," says the detective.

"Oh sure," replies the man. "He should be in the break room, I think. Union rules."

The man leads Rollins through the side of the warehouse. Rollins notices containers with warning labels stacked in neat rows.

The two of them enter a small room with a refrigerator, sink, and a coffee machine. A young, olive-complected man with dark hair and wearing a short-sleeve plaid shirt sits at a table, sipping coffee from a paper cup.

"Damiano," he says. "What's up?"

"The detective here wants to talk to you, Andre," replies Damiano.

"Andre," asks Rollins, "do you do deliveries to the Angels Nursing Home in Manhattan?"

"Oh, yes," he answers. "The home for handicapped kids. What's this about?"

"During your last delivery, did you notice anything unusual? Any suspicious people loitering around?"

"Uh, no. I just make my delivery, the lady- Jackie, I think her name is- signs for it, and then I go either back here or to my next destination."

"Oh, and by the way, what do you usually deliver there?"

"Mostly canisters of nitrogen. A few canisters of oxygen and ether. I have to know the chemical hazards and how to mitigate risk during delivery. Oxygen is an oxidizer and can make fires burn really not. Nitrogen's pretty safe; the only hazard is from the pressure. When transporting gas canisters, they have to be secur-".

"I understand," says the detective.

"Well, I better check on the truck. Got to drive to a delivery in half an hour."

Andre tosses the cup into a trash can. Rollins unobtrusively picks up the cup and places it into a Ziploc bag.

Minutes later, she is driving the Crown Victoria through the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel to Manhattan.

Oooooo

The Special Victims Unit had managed to stealthily collect DNA samples from persons they believed made deliveries to Angels Nursing Center. The samples were sent to the crime lab to compare them with the sample from baby Duffield.

In the meantime, while they wait for the test results to come back, they continue looking in to the staff and volunteers that would have been working at the center the previous fall. It was then that they got a lead.

"Tom Woolery," says Detective Sam Bullard, putting down the phone on his desk. "He claims to have not been to the center since last summer. But look at this sign in sheet." Sam points to signatures from a volunteer log dated in June. "Apparently, his name's being signed."

"I say we pay Mr. Woolery a visit," says Fin.

Ooooooooo

TOPAZ HOSPITAL

BAYSIDE, QUEENS, NEW YORK

FRIDAY, AUGUST 1

Detectives Tutuola and Bullard walk through the corridors of the hospital. It pretty much looks the same, with white corridors with patients, doctors, nurses, orderlies, and visitors moving around.

"Tom Woolery," says Fin as he approaches a nurse's station, showing his NYPD badge.

"That's me," replies a brown-haired man in a blue nurse's outfit. "How can I help you?"

"we got a few questions."

"We can talk in the break room."

Woolery leads the two SVU detectives to a small room with a coffee machine, table, sink, and refrigerator. Fin mused that it looks pretty much the same as the break room near the SVU squad room.

"Can we get you a cup of coffee?" ask Fin.

"Just water will be fine," replies Woolery. Fin fills a cup with water from a water cooler and hands it to the nurse.

"Tell us about your volunteering at the Angels Nursing Center," says Sam.

"I haven't been there in almost a year," answers Woolery, recalling a memory from many months ago. "I was sort of between jobs while I was going to nursing school, so I put some time volunteering there. But then I got a job and was too busy to go there what with that plus nursing school."

"What was your last month?" asks Sam.

"I was last there in August, I think. I got a job waiting on tables, I went to nursing school all day. And now I'm a full-time nurse here."

"Then why is your name on this volunteer sign-in sheet from last month?" asks Fin, showing a sheet of paper.

"That can't be," says Woolery, feeling surprise. "It's not even my phone number. Someone must be signing my name. I know I was working here on those dates. What is this about? Did someone steal drugs or something?"

"Yeah, something," says Sam. "Were you living here in Queens a year ago?"

"No, there was this hostel in a converted warehouse in Manhattan, near the docks. I lived there until maybe a month after I started working here. Six guys sleeping in a room. Two dozen of us living in the building. Shared kitchens and bathrooms. It's cheap. It was mostly for people like me, trying to put themselves through school. I can write the street and block if you want- I don't memorize the exact address."

Oooooooo

Minutes later, Fin and Sam are eating tacos at a roadside taco stand in Bayside. The surrounding neighborhood with low-level buildings clearly contrasts with the skyscrapers in Manhattan. The stand is not too busy; the only other customers are a couple eating a taco and a burrito.

"Records check out," says Fin. "Mr. Woolery was at the hospital during those days his name was signed in at Angels."

Sam swallows a piece of a taco. "We still have his paper cup with his saliva, just in case." The detective holds a sealed plastic bag with a paper cup inside. "I already called Heather and told her that our perp might be volunteering under Tom Woolery's name. "

Oooooooo

Monday starts typically at the Angels Pediatric Nursing Center. The more dedicated volunteers show up around 8:00 A.M., signing in at the front desk. A receptionist at the front desk looks at the sign-in sheet after she sees a man sign in. She picks up the telephone.

Heather Fitzmaurice sits in her office. A man with brown hair enters the room. He wears slacks, a buttoned short-sleeve shirt. A red volunteer badge is attached to the shirt.

"How can I help you?" asks the man.

"Tom Woolery, is it?" asks Fitzmaurice.

"Yeah."

"We want to talk to you about your volunteering here."

"What do you want to know about it?"

"Like why you are using a fake name," says Detective Sam Bullard, showing his badge. "I don't think you're Tom Woolery. You're under arrest."

"For what?" asks the man.

"Theft," replies the detective. "I doubt the nursing center gave you that volunteer badge. And that's just the start…"

Ooooooooooooo

NEW YORK CITY POLICE PRECINCT 16

INTERROGATION ROOM

MONDAY, AUGUST 4

Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba watches from outside as Detectives Fin Tutuola and Sam Bullard interrogate the suspect, who is with his attorney.

"Let's lay this down," says Bullard. "You're James Henshaw. First, you stole that volunteer badge to pose as Tom Woolery. Second, you're a sex offender, and you failed to register. And you raped this girl, Claire Duffield."

Bullard throws a picture of the girl onto the stainless steel desk.

"I have the right to remain silent," says Henshaw.

"And we have the right to talk. She must have been the perfect victim, right. She couldn't walk, she couldn't talk. She couldn't say no. She was yours for the taking, for you to do what you want. Well, let me tell you something. We have your DNA. We're gonna match it to the victim. And then you're ours for the taking."

"My client has nothing to say," says the dark-haired woman sitting next to him.

"Still, it must be pathetic," says Bullard. "You're a sad, pathetic man. Tired of being rejected, tired of being told no by girls. So you go after the one's that can't say no. You go after the one's that can't walk away. I wonder if there were other girls…"

"Well, it wasn't as if there was anyone else who would do them!" exclaims James Henshaw. "That girl, though, she was a nice piece of pus-"

Fin slams his fist on the table. "I suggest you exercise your right to remain silent!" he yells.

Oooooooo

"I cut a deal," says Barba, standing inside Sergeant Benson's office. "Henshaw's getting thirty years, no time off. He'll allocute at court tomorrow. "

"Baby Duffield will be all grown up by the time he gets out," says Benson.

"That's the plan."

"Bullard, you actually did well in interrogation," says Tutuola. "I would like you on our team."

"Well, this case got to me," replies Sam. "That creep hurt those helpless kids. I want to keep kids like that from suffering."

"I will certainly mention this when I report your performance to One PP," says Benson.

"I'd like to pay a visit to the Duffields, tell them the case is close."

"I'll go with you," says Fin. "Partner."

Oooooooooo

DUFFIELD RESIDENCE

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

"So he's going away for thirty years?" asks Mrs. Duffield.

"Yes," replies Detective Sam Bullard. "He'll enter the guilty plea tomorrow on all counts and admit what he did. How's the baby?"

"He's sleeping in his crib. I wonder if Claire would have been happy to just feel her baby boy against her skin." A tear flows down Mrs. Duffield's cheek.

"It must still be hard for you two," says Detective Fin Tutuola.

"I have to say something," says Mr. Duffield, standing up.

"Oh, no," says Mrs. Duffield.

"What is it?" asks Detective Bullard.

"I…I killed Claire."


	4. Chapter 4

NEW YORK CITY POLICE PRECINCT 16

INTERROGATION ROOM

TUESDAY, AUGUST 5

"Tell us what happened, Mr. Duffield," says Detective Sam Bullard.

"We've raised Claire for fourteen years," says Mr. Duffield. It became hard for us to continue caring for her. It took too much from us. She wasn't getting better. We were wondering what kind of life she could have. She could never make a life for herself. There would be no one but strangers to take care of her when we die."

"So how did you kill Claire?" asks Detective Fin Tutuola.

"Heather put a gas mask on Claire and attached it to this gas container. She said the gas was inert so Claire wouldn't feel as if she was suffocating. It was after her heart stopped when we found out Claire was pregnant."

"Why are you saying these things now?" asks Sam.

"When we took our grandson home from the hospital Saturday, I saw him sleeping. I wondered if Claire would have been happy to meet him. And then I realized, what happens if he gets older? What happens if he asks about his mom. How could I look him in the face and tell him I killed his mom?"

"Maybe it was for the best."

"No, it was murder," Mr. Duffield cries. "I murdered my own daughter."

Minutes later, the two detectives speak with Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba.

"We could certainly use the confession if we were to pursue murder charges against Duffield," says Barba, sipping a cup of hot coffee. "But the thing is he implicated a caregiver."

"He could simply be acting out of grief," says Sam. "He spent fourteen years caring for his disabled daughter, only for her to die. And to top that off, he couldn't even protect her from some creep. He feels like a failure. When my boy died, I felt like a failure. I could not give him a life that he deserved."

"We're going to need to look into this," says Fin. "We could get a warrant to search for gas canisters."

"I'll send in the warrant application right away," replies the A.D.A..

"I think we would be wasting our time," Sam says to Fin after Rafael Barba leaves. "Heather spent twenty years making the lives of disabled kids better. Now we're going to treat her as a criminal because of a statement from a grief-stricken man?"

"If the A.D.A comes back with a warrant, we'll search the place. If there's nothing indicating that Claire Duffield was killed, then the case is closed"

Ooooooooo

Hours later, Assistant District Attorney Barba secures the warrant, and Angels Pediatric Nursing Center is searched by the New York City Police Department. Detectives Tutuola and Bullard search a supply closet.

"Oxygen and ether," says Tutuola, reading the labels on the canisters.

"Those are common in medical facilities," says Bullard. "They don't prove anything."

"We'll let the A.D.A see if he can convince a jury to believe differently."

Minutes later, the two detectives go to the director's office.

"What has been going on here?" asks Heather Fitzmaurice. "Is it still about that rape case?"

"Heather, we're serving a warrant to follow up on a lead we got in connection with the rape case," says Sam.

"But the perp plead guilty this morning, right? He's going to prison for the next, what, three decades, is it? You assured me."

"Everything will be fine."

Oooooooo

"I suppose the ether could have been used to kill Claire Duffield," says Rafael Barba as he meets with the SVU detectives. "But ether is a rather common chemical used in medical centers."

"That settles it," says Sam, "we don't have anything except an outburst from a father who felt he failed his daughter. Our case is closed."

"You seem to be eager to close this case," Sergeant Olivia Benson says to Detective Bullard.

"Heather and her staff have been through a lot," he replies. "First they find out that some pervert had been raping their patients. And now Heather is being accused of killing one of them. They're heroes, not crooks. They were there for my son his whole life, all the way until the end. We have nothing on them. We should just move on; there are other victims out there."

"I'll take a look at their records overnight," says Barba, holding the photocopies of the paper records recovered from the nursing center. "If there are no further leads, we will have to let this case go."

Oooooooo

Olivia Benson hears her cellular telephone ring as she sits on the couch, bottle feeding Noah in the living room in her Manhattan apartment.

"Just sit still," she says to the baby boy, for whom she cared since his mother died. Benson prefers not to dwell on the details of how Noah ended up in her care. "Let me hear who it is."

She answers the phone. "Raf, what's up?"

"Liv, I was looking through the records," replies the assistant district attorney. "The records of the center buying the gas canisters are missing."

"Thanks, Raf. I'll have a meeting with the detectives tomorrow morning."

Putting that issue aside, she turns her attention to the crying Noah.

Ooooo

The next morning, Sergeant Benson has the meeting with her detectives, discussing what ADA Barba had told her. Detective Amanda Rollins gets an ideas, and makes a telephone call.

Later that afternoon, Rollins shows pages from a fax to the sergeant. Assistant District Attorney Barba joins them in a meeting.

"These are copies of invoices faxed over to us from Zozo Chemical Supply in Brooklyn," says Rollins. "I first visited them investigating the rape of Claire Duffield, to collect a DNA sample from the driver that makes deliveries to Angels Nursing. These invoices show that they deliver large quantities of nitrogen gas."

"Seventy percent of what we breathe is nitrogen," says Barba.

"Breathing 100% nitrogen can kill you," says Detective Fin Tutuola. "It's called nitrogen asphyxiation. Some states are considering using it as an execution method."

"Still, it's a bit flimsy," says Detective Sam Bullard. "We don't have solid proof that Claire Duffield was killed with nitrogen or anything."

"I have enough to at least take to a grand jury," says Barba. "That's what I'll do. The grand jury will decide if a murder case against Heather Fitzmaurice has merit." He stands up and leaves the squad room.

"Bullard, in my office," says Benson.

She and the newly-assigned detective step into her private office. She looks at Bullard, who is dressed in a blue shirt, red necktie, and brown slacks. Sam Bkllard was assigned to SVU as a provisional detective after one of their own, Nick Amaro, was reassigned to patrol duty in Queens following an incident.

"You seem to be second-guessing the ADA at every turn," says Benson.

"Just playing Devil's advocate, ma'am," replies Sam. "We got to make sure we're right if Heather Fitzmaurice is going to be tried."

"Is this to do with your son? I know she and her staff cared for him when he was alive."

"She's a hero. She just wants to help kids. She's a lot like you and Fin, as a matter of fact. My son and the others were suffering. She relieved their suffering. And when she found out that one of her own suffered even more, she helped us. She helped us catch that creep. James Henshaw might be continuing his sick abuse of helpless children if it weren't for her!"

"I understand your emotional involvement. But that is why Rafael Barba is sending this to the grand jury. They will decide. And if she's indicted, you can contact Miss Fitzmaurice's attorney and give your opinion. Until then, we wait for the grand jury."

Ooooo

Friday afternoon, Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba enters the SVU squad room.

"The grand jury returned a true bill of indictment against Heather Fitzmaurice for the murder of Claire Duffield," he says. "I also have an arrest warrant."

"An indictment!" exclaims Detective Sam Bullard. "No! This can't be! There has to be some mistake."

"Detective," says Barba. "The grand jury deliberated. They voted for indictment. Now Heather Fitzmaurice will stand trial for murder."

Bullard bows his head. He then looks towards Detective Sergeant Olivia Benson.

"Sergeant," he meekly asks, "with your permission, I would like to serve the arrest warrant against Heather Fitzmaurice."

"Fin will go with you," answers the sergeant.

Ooooooo

ANGELS PEDIATRIC NURSING CENTER

FRIDAY, AUGUST 8

Sam Bullard returns to the center with Fin and a squad of uniformed New York police officers. He enters the director's office.

The office is empty.

Sam speaks to Fitzmaurice's assistant Jackie.

"Do you know where the director is?" he asks.

"She's with a patient," replies Jackie.

"I think I know which room," says Fin.

He leads Sam and the uniformed police officers upstairs in a hurry, passing nurses and orderlies and patients and visitors. He checks each room.

And then he finds the room.

He sees a boy lying in bed, with a gas mask over his mouth. A hose connects the gas mask to a metal canister. Heather Fitzmaurice stands by with another woman in casual clothes.

Fin immediately runs to the boy, removing the gas mask.

"what are you doing?" asks Fitzmaurice.

"Heather Fitzmaurice, you are under arrest for the murder of Claire Duffield, and also for the attempted murder of this child. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If you can not afford an attorney, one would be provided for you."

"She's not doing anything wrong!" protests the other woman in the room. "She just wants to put an end to my boy's suffering."

"Cuff her for attempted murder as well," fin says to a uniformed cop.

Sam faces Heather.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Oooooooooo

NEW YORK CITY POLICE PRECINCT 16

INTERROGATION ROOM

MONDAY, AUGUST 11

"I hope you enjoyed your weekend in police lockup," says Assistant District Attorney Barba.

Heather Fitzmaurice sits on the folding chair in front of the stainless steel table. She had been in lockup since her arrest on Friday afternoon. A man wearing a dress shirt, necktie, and slacks sits next to her.

"First of all, what do you have to offer for a deal?" asks Neil Rothman, a longtime criminal defense attorney who is currently representing the accused.

"She pleads guilty to murder two and attempted murder, serves thirty-five years to life and surrenders her privilege to practice nursing in New York State," answers the prosecutor. "She also tells the truth, telling us how many children she has murdered ever since she started working at the nursing facility. In return, she gets immunity for any previous murders she committed against patients under her care in New York State. We are prepared to open an investigation as to the full extent of your client's crimes. If this goes to trial, she could be convicted of first degree murder and spend the rest of her life in prison without the possibility of parole, plus she can face further prosecution for any other murders she committed."

Rothman whispers into his client's ear.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" protests Fitzmaurice. Those kids were suffering. We were just keeping them alive in immobilized bodies. That's not life!"

"Heather," says Neil, "you were read your rights. What you say now can be used against you if this goes to trial."

"These children will be disabled all their lives, always cloistered from the rest of society, vulnerable to abuse. I grew up with a sister who was helpless. Caring for her strained my family. My mom…she abused us, but she abused her more than me. She tortured her. And then, eventually, she murdered her."

"We are aware of your family history," replies Barba. "We also know that you are a registered nurse. You used the professional trust granted to you by the state to commit these crimes. The choice is clear. Thirty-five to life and tell us the full extent of your crimes, or we go to trial and take our chances with a judge and jury."

"I am willing to tell what I did. I plan to tell the jury about the acts of mercy I did."

"Well, then," says the assistant district attorney. "We will see you at the arraignment."

Barba leaves the room.

"Wait!" exclaims Sam Bullard. "You don't have to this."

"What?" asks the prosecutor.

"You can drop the charges. Listen, she's not a bad person. She just wanted to put an end to the suffering of those kids."

"Detective, please. I have to go to the hearing. If you have any knowledge about this case, you can inform me or Mr. Rothman."

Barba enters the elevator.

"Bullard," says Sergeant Benson. "You are way out of line here. After your first week here, I thought that you could be a permanent addition to this team. Your behavior on this case has led me to doubt that."


	5. Chapter 5

SUPREME COURT

ARRAIGNMENT

MONDAY, AUGUST 10

The Manhattan Supreme Court courtroom is packed with visitors. Uniformed bailiffs stand watch. The room looks like the typical courtroom, with benches, tables for prosecution and defense, the judge's bench and witness stand in the back.

A bailiff reads a docket number, and Heather Fitzmaurice approaches the defense table with her attorney, Neil Rothman. Both of them are clad in business outfits.

The judge, a white-haired wrinkled man with eyeglasses, reads the charges.

"How do you plead?" asks the judge.

"Not guilty on all counts," says Fitzmaurice.

"Bail?" asks the judge.

"The people ask for $100,000," says Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba.

"Miss Fitzmaurice is a registered nurse and has lived in New York City for over twenty years," says Rothman.

"Bail is set at $45,000," replies the judge, banging the gavel. "Next case."

Ooooooooo

Two days later, Neil Rothman walks into a high-end bar. The patrons are either dressed in suits or dressy casual clothes, sitting at tables or at the bar. The wait staff and bartenders all wear vests over white shirts with bow ties. The lawyer is no stranger to this place, and some of the staff recognize him by name.

Sitting at a table in the bar area is a dark-haired man in a white shirt and black slacks. A tomato-basil-mozzarella flatbread is his snack, and a glass of cold light beer sits on the table.

"Raf," he says. "I'm glad I caught you. How are you doing?"

"Just relaxing after working hard for prepping for trial," says Rafael Barb. "And you, Neil?"

"Fine," he says. "My boy's visiting. "He graduated Kings Point last year. He's a third assistant engineer for a freighter based out of Norfolk in Virginia as well as an ensign in the Navy Reserve."

"Are you here to talk about the case? Your client really screwed herself over by admitting what she did and refusing the deal."

"She's not my client anymore."

"What?"

"Heather decided to go in a different direction. She has a new lawyer, working for her pro-bono."

"Pro-bono?"

"Her name is Lorraine Francaix. She has over a decade of experience in criminal defense, so I've no doubt she's capable. She's also a euthanasia activist."

"Mercy killing."

"Lorraine, the new attorney, she wrote several article in favor of killing terminally ill people. She even wrote an article saying that disabled babies should be euthanized at birth."

"A euthanasia activist. Fitzmaurice was trying to justify her actions."

"Me, I'm more of the type that pokes holes in the prosecution's theory and provides alternate explanations. I have cross-examined the SVU detectives in more than one trial."

"You don't always succeed, Neil. Anyway, any thoughts on euthanizing the disabled?"

"I can't say that arguments in favor are trivial. I mean, to be completely immobilized, unable to move. That's almost like being in solitary confinement for life. Nobody wants to live like that. I mean, there was this guy in Spain, San Pedro, I think his name was, who fought for the right to kill himself after he was paralyzed from the neck down. And some of my son's friends from Kings Point went into active duty in the military. They're more likely to end up completely crippled from their line of work than you or me, completely dependent of their families and the VA."

"I see."

"And yet, we have advances in the medical sciences. Cloning, bioengineering, cybernetics. Some of those kids at that nursing home, we might have the capability to give them a pretty normal life by the time they reach adulthood."

"That is a good point."

"And yet, Raf, such treatments would only be available to the rich. Insurance companies would claim those treatments are elective. For families of modest means, they have to still push their disabled kids in a wheelchair."

"If euthanasia itself was on trial," says Barba, "You'd be a great lawyer- for either side."

Ooooooo

SUPREME COURT

CHAMBERS OF JUDGE JAMIE ROSS

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12

Assistant District Attorney Barba sits inside the judge's chambers. Sitting next to him is a woman in her late thirties, dark of skin and hair, clad in a suit. Sitting behind a desk if a brown-haired woman in her fifties, with a few wrinkles in her forehead.

"The defense stipulated to the following factual allegations made by the People," Lorraine Francaix, the new defense attorney, says to Judge Jamie Ross.

"Let us go over this," says the judge. "On Thursday, July 24, 2014, the defendant, Heather Fitzmaurice, placed a gas mask over the face of Claire Duffield. The mask was connected to a gas tank filled with nitrogen gas. Because Miss Duffield was not breathing oxygen, she died as a result. Do you both concur?"

"Yes," says Barba.

"Yes," says Francaix.

Judge Ross reads off the list of stipulated facts. She reads about the other children who were killed by Fitzmaurice via nitrogen asphyxiation, she reads about how nitrogen gas causes asphyxiation, about how Fitzmaurice ordered large quantities of nitrogen from the Zozo Chemical Supply Company in Brooklyn, how Fitzmaurice tried to cover up her killings by disposing of the gas canisters and destroying the invoice copies from Zozo. The defense attorney stipulates to all the facts.

"The People in turn stipulate to these factual allegations by the defense," says Barba.

Jamie Ross reads aloud how heather Fitzmaurice fully cooperated with the NYPD Manhattan SVU and provided essential assistance in capturing James Henshaw, who had plead guilty to raping Claire Duffield.

"Now that both sides have stipulated to these facts," says Ross, "Let us review the preliminary witness lists."

"Your Honor," says the prosecutor, "the People will not present witnesses for its case."

"That is unusual, Counselor," comments the judge.

"Ma'am," says Barba, "the defense has stipulated to all the factual allegations in the indictment. The People do not intend to present any witnesses to testify to these facts. However, the People reserve the right to present a rebuttal case, and to call any necessary witnesses."

"So noted. Defense counsel should note that if the defendant recants the stipulation, the People reserve the right to submit witnesses to this Court for consideration to rebut the recantation."

"Here is the defense witness list," says Francaix, speaking in a Haitian accent, handing sheets of paper to the judge and prosecutor. "They are all parents or caregivers of the children euthanized by my client. They will testify about the burden of their children's disability, about how my client was dedicated to their children and to their comfort, and that they concluded that the only humane solution was euthanasia."

"Your Honor, I object," says Barba. "Even accepting as true the defense's allegations, it does nothing to either rebut the People's allegations- which the defense had just stipulated to- or provide a basis for a legal justification for killing those children. There is no euthanasia exception in New York's murder statutes."

"So we have a trial without calling any witnesses to the stand?" asks the defense attorney.

"Theoretically, it could be possible," says Ross. "Prosecution and defense stipulate facts, none of the proposed witnesses could testify on matters relevant to the case. Stipulated facts are presented to the jury and they decide a verdict."

"A jury would expect some testimony on the stand. They could acquit. And even if they convict, the conviction would be based on quicksand."

"The People are prepared to defend a conviction based solely on stipulated facts."

"That would be an interesting case for the New York Court of Appeals to decide," says Ross. "It could even go to the U.S. Supreme Court. But this is not such a case. I will allow the testimony from the defense witnesses."

Oooooooo

Detective Sam Bullard enters Detective Sergeant Olivia Benson's private office.

"You wanted to see me, Sergeant?" asks the detective.

"I got a call from ADA Barba," says Benson.

"Ma'am, I haven't contacted the District Attorney's office about the case. Last I heard, Heather plead not guilty and is out on bail awaiting trial."

"She made some admissions to the court," says the sergeant. "She admitted that you warned her that the police would uncover her crimes, and so she got rid of the evidence. That would constitute obstruction of justice."

"What?" asks Bullard, surprise on his face.

"She also admitted that she euthanized your son, with your permission."

Sam's face drains of what little color it has. "Ma'am, I can neither confirm nor deny."

"It's just not her word, Bullard. I've seen how you acted in this case. I can't trust you. I must recommend that you are no longer part of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. You are on administrative leave, pending investigation by Internal Affairs."

Oooooo

That evening, Liv watches as Noah sleeps. She can not help thinking about the backstory of Sam Bullard, and his disabled son whom he allegedly euthanized.

Noah, for all appearances, is a perfectly healthy baby. And yet, something could happen that would require constant care for the rest of his life. Would she have to give up her career in the NYPD? How would she take care of Noah? Could she bear to surrender him to an institution?

Or what if she ended up requiring such care? She knows full well that, in her line of work, she could be completely crippled by some punk with a lucky shot. Noah would be taken away from her for sure.

She holds the sleeping baby in her arms. She wants to spend as much time with him, before they are separated forever.


	6. Chapter 6

SUPREME COURT

TRIAL, PART ONE

MONDAY, AUGUST 24

"The People may call its first witness," says Judge Jamie Ross.

"The People have no witnesses to call at this time," replies Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. "The defendant has stipulated to the People's allegations of fact."

"Does the defense so stipulate?" asks Ross.

"Yes, ma'am," replies heather Fitzmaurice.

"Copies of the stipulation shall be provided to the jurors," says the judge. "The jury shall henceforth treat the stipulations as true when considering the verdict."

A clerk provides binders with pages to each of the twelve jurors and the two alternates.

"The People rest, your Honor," says Barba.

"Does the defense wish to present their first witness?" asks Judge Ross.

"The defense calls Don Lyons to the stand," says Lorraine Francaix.

A gray-haired man with a cane walks to the stand. He is sworn in by the bailiff.

"State your name for the record," says the defense attorney.

"Dr. Don Lyons," replies the witness.

"Your occupation?"

"I am a retired doctor, specializing in the treatment of the disabled. I am also a medical ethicist. I am published in several journals including the New England Journal of Medicine. I've also given lectures on medical ethics in places like Columbia and Yale and Georgetown, and even overseas in Oxford."

"You have defended the euthanasia of disabled children, is that correct?"

"Yes," replies Dr. Lyons. "Euthanizing the disabled may sometimes be the only humane course of action."

"How so?" asks Francaix.

"Some people are so profoundly disabled that they are unable to participate in society. They lack freedom, always dependent on the care of others. Imagine not being able to spend time with friends, go on trips whenever you please, or enter into a romantic relationship."

"And what burdens does it place on the families of these children?"

"it places great burdens on the time and finances of their families, as well as the finances of the state. Caregivers often find themselves stuck at home to attend to the needs of their disabled children. If they want to spend time out in public, they have to pay for a caretaker, or pay to have their child in a group home, straining their finances. They must make sacrifices, especially if they have other able-bodied children, not being able to give them the time nor materials they need. And the end result of all that time, all the money spent, is that a child continues to live immobilized and isolated from society, shut out from activities we take for granted."

"And yet, Dr. Lyons, you must concede that there were completely disabled persons, such as Stephen Hawking and Christopher Reeve, who clearly chose to continue living, and lead active lives."

"Correct. I do note that, to all appearances, they were competent adults, able to make their own decisions, including the decision to continue living in such a state. And they had sufficient financial resources on their own to pay for their care. But many profoundly disabled persons do not. Their families should not be required to sacrifice their lives just to keep a disabled person alive."

"And what of disabled children?"

"Their parents or caretakers must make that decision for them, based upon what is best for their families. A child can not make that decision, especially if they have profound mental disabilities."

"So the parents of a disabled child can rightfully euthanize their child?"

"Depending on the degree of disability, the prospects of recovery, and the burden that care for the child places on the family, euthanasia may be the only moral choice."

"No further questions."

"Your witness," Judge Ross says to Barba.

"Have you yourself performed euthanasia?" asks the assistant district attorney.

"No, I have not," replies Dr. Lyons.

"Why not?"

"I choose not to."

"And yet, you cared for the disabled?"

"Yes, I have."

"So you say that euthanasia can be justified, and yet you have not done it yourself?"

"Mr. Barba, first of all, I would need the consent of the disabled person or the caretaker. Second of all, that euthanasia can be justified does not mean a particular doctor has a duty to participate. I also believe capital punishment can be justified, that does not mean that I must be an executioner."

"Are you aware of Nazi Germany's T4 program designed to euthanize disabled children?"

"Objection," says Lorraine Francaix.

"Overruled," replies the judge.

"I have," says Lyons. "And it was not a bad thing. There is a fallacy in arguing that the T4 program was bad because it was done by the same people who did the Holocaust. Just remember that Social Security and Medicaid were brought by the same government that gave us Manzanar and the Tuskegee Experiments."

"Now, given the killings of these children by the defendant, Heather Fitzmaurice, killings, which I remind the court, she stipulated that she did, can you say which of them were justified?'

"I can not."

"No further questions."

"Witness may step down," says Jamie Ross.

ooooooooooo

"The defense calls Cathy Meloni to the stand," says Lorraine Francaix.

A middle-aged woman with blond hair approaches the stand and is sworn in by the court bailiff.

"State your name for the record," says Francaix.

"Cathy Meloni," replies the witness.

"And your current residence?"

"Manhattan, New York."

"Did you have a son named Chad?"

"Yes."

"Was Chad disabled?"

"Yes."

"Please describe, to the best of your knowledge, Chad's disabilities."

"He could not walk, he could not hold anything, he could not talk. I had to push him in a wheelchair."

"Please describe how much care he needed."

"He could not take care of himself at all. Someone had to watch him. Someone had to feed him. Someone had to ..well…eliminate waste for him."

"Mrs. Meloni, you were married. How did this affect your marriage."

"The constant care took a toll. El kept blaming me for giving birth to Chad, for ruining his perfect family." He left us, saying he did not want to deal with any defects."

"And it was after that when Chad went to Angels Pediatric Nursing?"

"Yes," replies Mrs. Meloni. "that was when I met Heather Fitzmaurice."

"Is she here?"

"Yes."

"Let the record show that the witness, Cathy Meloni, identified the defendant, Heather Fitzmaurice, as the person she met at the Angels Nursing Center," says the judge.

"Why did you put Chad in a nursing home?" asks Francaix.

"I needed to work to support my family, and I couldn't take care of Chad all day," says Meloni. "so I sent him to Angels."

"And your opinion of Heather Fitzmaurice?"

"An angel," replies Meloni. "She loved the children under her care, and she loved us. She gave all to provide relief."

"Now, Mrs. Meloni, this is going to be a difficult question, but why did you decide to have Chad put to sleep?"

"Because he would never get the life he deserved. Regardless of my love and Heather's love, it wasn't going to give him a life. He would never attend college or work like the rest of us or get married and have a family of his own. He would always be a baby, dependent on others."

"So how did you go about putting Chad to sleep?"

"I made an appointment with Heather. We took Chad to this room. Heather put a gas mask over Chad's face and connected it to this gas canister."

"Was it poison gas?"

"Oh no," replies Meloni. "it was nitrogen. We breathe it all the time. Chad would become unconscious due to lack of oxygen, and would not feel like suffocating- something about carbon not building up in the bloodstream. Chad took his final rest peacefully." The woman cries. "I wish he could have had a better life here. But we…we can't have everything we want."

"I have one more question," says Francaix. "You just admitted to killing your son. Your testimony here could be used against you if you are prosecuted for murdering Chad. Explain to this jury why you would testify, given the risk of prosecution?"

"Heather is an angel, like I said. She and her staff took care of Chad, did the best to relieve his suffering until the end of his life. She should be free."

"No further questions."

"Your witness," says Judge Jamie Ross.

"It must have been a difficult decision," says Assistant District Attorney Barba. "So your husband abandoned you."

"That's what I said," answers Cathy Meloni, still wiping tears from her eyes. "Chad destroyed El's image of perfection. He was ashamed of his own son."

"And you loved your husband?"

"Yes."

"Your husband who abandoned you and your other children."

"Raising a disabled child is hard. Chad required so much care. "

"But Chad was not living in the center until your husband left. Were you personally taking care of Chad?"

"Yes."

"And you had nights out with just you and your husband?"

"We had to find a caretaker before El and I went out."

"Parents often have to find babysitters for the kids before going out on the town."

"Objection," says Lorraine Francaix.

"A normal babysitter couldn't care for Chad," answers Mrs. Meloni. "We had to hire a nursing aide, much more expensive than some high school girl."

"So your husband, whom you loved, could not stand that his family did not meet his perfect standards. So he left."

"I said that already."

"And so the love of your life abandoned him. But instead of blaming the man you loved, you blamed the most vulnerable member of your family- your disabled son. You scapegoated him for the end of your marriage, and so you killed him!"

"Objection!" yells Francaix. "Argumentative."

"Sustained," says the judge.

"No further questions," replies Barba.

"Court is in recess until 10:00 tomorrow morning," says the judge, banging the small wooden gavel.

Rafael Barba takes a walk outside the courtroom. Already, a crowd of people gathered on the steps.

They all hold signs supporting Fitzmaurice, including one sign reading "ST. HEATHER" and "ANGEL OF MERCY".

""I can't comment on this case," says Lorraine Francaix, standing next to the defendant. "But we thank you for your support for our cause."


	7. Chapter 7

SUPREME COURT

TRIAL PART 7

TUESDAY, AUGUST 25

"The defense calls Sam Bullard to the stand," says Lorraine Francaix.

Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba watches as the former SVU detective walks to the witness stand.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" asks the bailiff.

"I do," answers the detective.

"State your name for the record," says the defense attorney.

"Sam Bullard."

"What is your occupation, Mr. Bullard?"

"I am a detective with the New York City Police Department. My last assignment was with the Special Victims Unit."

"And what did you do as a detective with the Special Victims Unit?"

"We at the Special Victims Unit investigated sex crimes, domestic violence, violence against children. I asked for a transfer when I heard there was an opening last spring and the transfer was approved."

"Explain to this court how you know the defendant, Heather Fitzmaurice."

"She was the director of the Angels Pediatric Nursing Center. I met her shortly after my wife Donna and I sent our son to live there as a resident."

"Why did you and Mrs. Bullard make that decision?"

"Our son was completely disabled. He had cerbal palsy. He could not walk, he could not talk, he was fed through a tube. To top that off, we had other children to take care of. We did not have enough time to attend to his needs and that of the other children, so we sent him to the nursing center."

"And how would you describe his care at the nursing center?"

"They provided excellent care. Heather was devoted, and she expected no less from the staff and volunteers. Her mission was to relieve people of suffering. In fact, I would say she shares the same goals as the detectives of the Special Victims Unit."

"And how long was your son residing in the facility?"

"Two years, until he died."

"Now, Detective Bullard, according to Miss Fitzmaurice's stipulation, she killed your son with your consent. Is this true?"

"Yes, it is."

"Were you there when your son died?"

Bullard wipes a tear from his eye. "Yes, I was."

"Why would you come to such a decision. To kill your own disabled son?"

"He was never going to get better. He would never get to live a normal life. He would never go out and play with boys. He would never go out and date girls. No school dances, no rooting for his high school team. He would always be a baby, dependent on others. All he would do is lie down in bed, unable to do anything for himself."

"Describe his death."

"We took him on an outing in Central Park; I wanted him to experience life outdoors one last time. At night, we took him to the room."

"Which room?"

"The room Heather said is used for euthanizing her patients. She and I laid him in the bed. We did our best to make him comfortable."

"And then what?"

"Heather put a gas mask on my son's face and connected it to a gas canister. She said it was nitrogen. It wasn't poison; she simply said that as the gas contained no oxygen, he would go to sleep and die. And that was when he died. I held his hand." Sam wipes off a tear with a handkerchief. "I can only imagine now that he is running and smiling. It has to be better for him."

"I have one question. The People and my client stipulated that you alerted her when the Special Victims Unit was going to search the nursing center for evidence that she engaged in euthanasia. Is this true, Mr. Bullard?"

"Yes," replies the detective. "I warned her after Mr. Barba told the squad he would get a warrant."

"That is a big risk you took," says Francaix. "Admitting that you tried to foil the investigation against my client. And then, coming here and testifying, under oath, that you had your own son put to sleep. Have you suffered any repercussions from the NYPD?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was removed from the Special Victims Unit and am on administrative leave pending an internal investigation."

"Why risk your career?"

"Because it's right," says Sam. "Heather Fitzmaurice did not do anything wrong. She dedicated her life to alleviating suffering and ending suffering. We put animals to sleep if they are suffering too much. Are not children more important than animals? Some of them can't speak out. It is up for people like me and Heather to put end their suffering. Heather Fitzmaurice is an angel, a saint. She made the lives of hundreds of children better. She should not be on trial here!"

"No further questions."

"Your witness," says Judge Jamie Ross.

"I am sorry about the loss of your son," says Rafael Barba.

"Thank you," replies Sam Bullard. "We just take it one day at a time."

"Are you living in the same place you were when your son died?"

"Objection!" says Francaix. "Relevance."

"The People would like to explore an alternate reason as to why Mr. Bullard had his son murdered."

"I will allow it for now," says Judge Ross.

"No, we were not," says Bullard. "we were living in Manhattan, close to where I work, close to the nursing center."

"Please describe your former residence."

"It was a small, two bedroom apartment. Donna and I slept in one room, and the other bedroom had our other three kids."

"And describe your present residence."

"It is a three bedroom house in Queens."

"Does it have a yard?"

"Yes."

"I wanrt to introduce People's Exhibit 1 and 2," says Barba. "The rental listing for the apartment that the Buillard family lived in Manhattan, and the realestate listing for their currenty house in Queens." He hands two pieces of paper to the court officer. "You must have gotten a big raise in order to be able to move your family to Queens. Isn't that right?"

"I only got a two thousand dollar raise since then," answers Bullard. "Per year"

"How were you able to afford the new place in Queens?"

"I used to spend thirty thousand a year for inpatient care for my son. After he died."

"After you killed him."

"After we put him to sleep, there was more money available. We got a mortgage to pay for the house in Queens. There was more money to go on trips, and to save for my children's college education."

"So it is fair to say that your disabled son was a burden."

"We made sacrifices during his life. Sacrifices that simply keep him alive in an immobile, mute body. My remaining children have greater opportunities to lead productive lives. I did what was best for my family. I should not be questioned about it. And Heather's dedication to the children under her care shouldn't be questioned."

"And yet you have more money to spend now."

"This wasn't about money. Heather wasn't in this for the money. Think about it. Every time she put a patient to sleep, she received no more money from caring for that patient. All these institutions, they prolong suffering just to squeeze a few extra dollars from us. Not Heather. She cared about the kids."

"Okay," says Barba, "how old was your son when he died?"

"Seven," replies Bullard.

"And he could have lived decades if you and Heather Fitzmaurice did not put him to sleep."

"Decades unable to walk or stand or talk."

"What makes you say that, Detective? Surely you are aware of advances in medical science. Why, with cloning or bioengineering or cybernetics your son could have had a normal life."

"Or maybe civilization would collapse and those like my son would be left to fend for themselves."

"The People move to strike that statement from the record," Barba says to the judge. "it was speculative."

"Your Honor," says Francaix, "Mr. Barba solicited speculation with his question."

"Motion to strike denied," says Judge Ross.

"I have no further questions."

"The defense rests," says Lorraine Francaix.

"Prosecution and defense counsel will meet in chambers tomorrow afternoon to discuss the list of People's rebuttal witnesses," says Judge Ross.

Minutes later, Rafael Barba, holding his coat, walks outside to the steps of the courthouse. He sees the protestors gathered outside in support of Heather Fitzmaurice. The crowd holds signs reading "FREE HEATHER FITZMAURICE" and "LEGALIZE MERCY"

"Heather Fitzmaurice is no criminal," says a speaker in the crowd. "She did what her sense of mercy and compassion told her to do. We ask the prosecutor to drop all charges and let her continue her life's work."

"Boo!" one of the persons in the crowd yells at Barba.

"No need for that," Lorraine Francaix says to the crowd. "Rafael Barba here has acted according to the standards of conduct required by our profession. As a matter of fact, he put away a rapist who targeted the most helpless among us. As for this case, the court will decide."

"I see you have your cheerleading squad out front," says Barba.

"This is my passion," replies Francaix. "Defending drug dealers and handling lawsuits over business disputes pay the bills; making sure people can die with dignity is my work."

"And my work is to speak for the victims and the people of New York. Victims like Claire Duffield."

"You know, when I first spoke with Heather, I urged her not to stipulate, to force you to prove she killed those kids. I know we could have won if we challenged the evidence against her. But she…well, I'm not going to violate my oath, but what she chose to do is fairly obvious. And here we are."

"Here we are."

"Still, hundreds of millions of dollars are spent each year keeping completely-disabled people alive. I mean, that money could be used to provide clean water to millions of children in Third World countries. Given them over six decades of extra, productive life instead of them dying of cholera and dysentery."

A tear flows down her cheek.

Oooooooooo

OFFICE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEY ALVIN YATES

"So that's the situation," says Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. "I could tell the jury was sympathizing with the parents, especially the former SVU detective.

"I can understand," replies New York County District Attorney Alvin Yates, sitting behind his wooden desk in the District Attorney's office, hearing the latest on the Fitzmaurice trial. "Many people are afraid to live a disabled life, afraid of losing their independence, their freedom, having to rely on other people just to do the basic things, and having to burden their loved ones to spend thousands of dollars a month just so they can live completely immobilized. There was this case in Canada where a man gassed his daughter to death because she had cerebral palsy and couldn't take care of herself. Over 70% of Canadians said he did the right thing. There was no hope for the girl for a better life, so her life wasn't worth living, so they said."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"We're trial lawyers, Raf. We always consider our opponents' arguments."

Barba pauses for a while. Alvin Yates- with his bald head, dark skin, eyeglasses framing his face, looks pretty much the same as he did almost two years ago, when Barba was first assigned to Manhattan. He remembers first entering this office, with wooden bookcases with books on various legal subjects behind the desk. On more than one occasion has he come here to inform Yates on the latest updates regarding the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.

"Heather Fitzmaurice apparently has a huge fan club. They're asking us to drop all charges."

"Any of them in wheelchairs?"

Barba searches his memories for a few seconds. "Actually, there weren't."

"I'm not surprised," replies Yates.

"Lorraine Francaix did have a good point on how much money is spent on disabled care when it could be used for clean water," says Barba.

The district attorney takes a sip of iced tea through a straw. "Whether money should be spent on the disabled or for clean water is a matter for lawmakers to decide, whether or not they spend those funds wisely," says the district attorney. "For now, what we need to remember that the legislature did not write a mercy killing exception into the murder statute. Heather Fitzmaurice is guilty and it's our duty to press the case to the court."

"If we rest now, the jury looks like they will acquit. I do have an idea for a witness for the rebuttal case. The jury heard Fitzmaurice's case. Now they need to hear the opposition. I did want to run it by you first."

"Explain," says Yates.

Oooooooooooo

BULLARD RESIDENCE

"You..you murdered our son!" cries Donna Bullard.

Sam Bullard looks at his wife, her eyes in tears. It is early evening, the sun having set in New York. Donna had just heard of the circumstances of the death of one of her sons. The grief resurfaces. Memories of being informed of the death, the viewing at the mortuary with family and friends, the funeral service. She had shut herself in for weeks, often weeping. Now what she is feeling is like concentrated nitric acid being poured into a deep chest wound.

"I miss him," protests Sam. "I would have done anything to give him the life he deserved. To be able to run and play like the other boys. But we couldn't. I did the compassionate thing, what was best for all of us."

"Best for all of us? Or just your own ego? You were ashamed of him! A cop having a helpless son!"

"Now listen," says Sam, in a soothing tone. "Calm down. Look at the life we have now. We have this house here in Queens. You're able to advance in your career. We were even able to take our other kids on a cruise! Our life is better!"

"Better? And who would you kill for the good of the family? Your other kids? Me? Would you kill me if you thought it was best for the family?"

"Donna, I…"

"Get out!" yells Donna. "You're not a part of my family anymore!"


	8. Chapter 8

SUPREME COURT

TRIAL PART 8

THURSDAY, AUGUST 26

"The prosecution will call its first witness for its rebuttal case," says Judge Jamie Ross.

Feeling a bit nervous, Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba looks around. He glances at the defendant Heather Fitzmaurice, defense attorney Lorraine Francaix, the court spectators, and the jury sitting in their box.

"The People call Alvin Yates to the stand," says the prosecutor.

District Attorney Alvin Yates approaches the stand. Using his left hand, he pushes a joy stick on the left side of a motorized wheelchair, causing it to move close to the bench.

"Can a bailiff please help the witness to the stand?" asks Ross.

"Yes, ma'am," replies one of the uniformed bailiffs. He and another bailiff lift Yates, carefully seating him on the witness stand.

The jury looks at the witness. His right arm is folded, and his right hand is clenched in a fist. His head is slightly titled to the right.

"State your name for the record," says Barba.

"Alvin Yates," replies the witness.

"And your present occupation?"

"District Attorney for New York County."

"May the record show that this court is in New York County?" asks Barba.

"The record may reflect that," answers Ross.

"Mr. Yates, for the record, are you disabled?" asks Barba.

"Yes," replies the district attorney.

"Describe the nature of your disability."

"I have had cerebral palsy all my life. As a result, I only have limited motor control over my left hand. I am unable to walk or stand or feed myself. I can only drink liquids through a straw by holding a cup with my left hand."

"So it is fair to say that you grew up as a disabled child."

"Correct."

"How has it affected your life quality?"

"I need daily care. I have to use elevators and ramps when going about. Someone has to feed me when I am hungry. And, of course, my disability meant that I could not achieve my dream of being a Navy SEAL."

"If it helps you feel better, I probably would not have made the cut for the Navy SEALs either." This statements provokes smirks from the jury and the court's audience. " Now, Mr. Yates, what have you been able to accomplish?"

"I graduated at the top five percent of my class at Columbia Law School," answers Yates. "I spent twenty years as a federal prosecutor, prosecuting cases ranging from human trafficking to bank fraud to terrorism. I was elected district attorney in Manhattan. I oversee an office responsible for prosecuting felonies within Manhattan. I have been married for seventeen years; I even danced with my wife during my wedding reception."

"Danced with your wife?"

"Yes, I was supported by a special harness hanging from the ceiling. In addition, I am also the father to a daughter and a son."

"And your opinion of your life?"

"I have and have had a full life. I went to social events during my childhood and my college years. I watched movies and plays. I attend bar association functions with my wife and my children's sporting events. They sure do not take for granted their ability to walk. Every Thanksgiving, my family and I have dinner at a nursing home with others who are completely disabled, as well as their families. My kids help to clean the kitchen afterwards."

"So it is fair to say that disabled people can enjoy a full life?"

"Yes. Whole industries were developed to give them technologies that allow them to participate in our society. I held a customized stick in my left hand to type up term papers in college and legal briefs for court. Just yesterday I gave an inspirational speech to Columbia's law students, encouraging them to toughen up and just aim for the goal."

"And what is your opinion of euthanizing disabled children?"

"I am against it. As I've said, I was a disabled child. These parents say they can speak for their children. How could they know what their children want? And even if their children felt sad, that is no excuse. They're children. They can't make an informed decision on whether or not to end their own lives. How can we let others make that decision for them?"

"No further questions," says Barba.

"Your witness," the judge says to Francaix.

"It must be nice sitting in your position of privilege," says the defense attorney.

"Privilege?" asks Alvin Yates. "You want to trade places with me?"

"You clearly can talk and make your wishes known. It is fair to say that you can inform your caretakers if you are not hungry and do not feel like eating, am I right?"

"I suppose," replies the district attorney.

"And yet, there are other people with cerebral palsy that can't talk. How would you have been able to become a federal prosecutor if you could not talk to a jury? How would you have been able to give a speech at Columbia if you couldn't talk?"

"I could still work in another field of law, like contracts or appellate law."

"And if you had Down's syndrome? You would not have been able to even attend law school."

"I suppose."

"You are lucky you are able to talk. What about those kids, who suffer in silence, who can't even tell others that they want to end their suffering?"

"Objection," says Barba. "Argumentative."

"Sustained," says Ross.

"Now, let us see a video of your campaign for district attorney," says Francaix. "I introduce Defense Exhibit One. If the video can be played..."

"Objection," says the prosecutor.

"The People called Manhattan's own district attorney to the stand to testify about the life of disabled people," answers the defense attorney. "He testified before this court that he is in fact the district attorney. It is only fair that I present to the jury what he said during the election campaign."

"Overruled," says Ross. "I will allow it."

Francaix presses a button on a remote control. The jurors watch an image appear on a TV series.

"My name is Alvin Yates," says a deep, baritone voice. "For twenty years I have been a federal prosecutor, serving the American people, going after con artists, human traffickers, and terrorists. I have always abided by the highest ethical standards. Now I ask you, the people of Manhattan, to vote for me for district attorney. I will bring my dedication to truth, justice, and the rule of law to the district attorney's office as I did to the U.S. attorney's office."

"Is it fair to say, Mr. Yates, that your campaign produced this ad and you endorsed this message?" asks Francaix.

"Yes, it is," replies Yates.

"I am pausing here." Lorraine Francaix presses a button. "Describe, in your own words, what this image looks like."

"It is a picture of me sitting behind a prosecutor's table inside a courtroom."

The jurors look, silently noting that the courtroom appearing on the screen looks very much the same as the courtroom they are currently sitting in.

"Is that a wheelchair you were sitting in?" asks Francaix.

"No," replies Yates.

The jurors focus their eyes on the screen, noting that the then-candidate was sitting in a wooden chair. Nothing indicates that it could roll on the ground.

"Now let's fast forward to the end," says Francaix. The jurors see an image of Yates, clad in a suit, sitting behind a desk, his fist clenched. "Is that a wheelchair you are sitting in?"

"I remember that chair had wheels on the bottom," answers Yates. "It was a leather chair, it felt nice. Come to think of it, maybe I should get a leather wheelchair that reclines."

"But that was not the wheelchair you normally use?"

"No."

"Why did you not sit in your wheelchair during your campaign commercial?"

"I took the advice of the producers."

"This was your message. You're responsible for it. You can't pass the buck."

"Objection," says Rafael Barba. "Argumentative."

"Sustained," says the judge.

"At that last scene, your right hand was clenched in a fist," says Lorraine Francaix.

"Because of my disability, my right hand tends to curl up in a fist," says Alvin Yates.

"I want to introduce Defense Exhibit 2," says the defense attorney. "An interview between Politico and the commercial's producer, Chester Beach, in an article about interesting campaigns for local races, published a few months after you were sworn in. And I quote, 'Yates' that is you, right?"

"Yes."

" 'Yates, we had him sit behind a desk on a set dressed to look like a law office. We positioned his right arm so that it looked like he was raising his fist as he asked the people on Manhattan to vote for him. It made him look strong, as if he could fight for the people with his bare hands. It worked. Focus groups of voters in Manhattan viewed Mr. Yates more favorably because of him appearing to raise his fist at the end of the ad.' "

"Do you have a point, Counselor?"

"You were hiding the fact that you were disabled. You did not appear in your wheelchair at all during that ad. Need I play the video before this court again?"

"I hid no such thing. I made public appearances in my campaign. Everyone could see that I was in a wheelchair."

"How many attended your public campaign events?"

"A hundred I guess. Maybe three hundred"

"And that commercial I showed was broadcast on stations here in Manhattan?"

"Yes."

"And is it fair to say that over one million people live in Manhattan, watch TV in Manhattan?"

"I guess."

"So they all saw you are this able-bodied man willing to take on the crooks."

"Objection," says Barba.

"Withdrawn," says Francaix. "Is it fair to say that your parents sacrificed much to care for you?"

"I am always grateful to them and others who took care of me during my childhood," replies the district attorney. "Especially after I became a father myself."

"And the Manhattan borough government provides you with an office nursing aide to help you at work."

"Yes."

"And you worked twenty years as a federal prosecutor, which makes you eligible for retirement. Are you receiving retirement pay?"

"Yes, I receive a pension. I was an assistant U.S. attorney for over twenty years, so I qualified for retirement."

"And that is in addition to your salary as district attorney of Manhattan. I am showing you Defense Exhibit 3, which is the schedule of retirement benefits of federal employees of the Justice Department, and Exhibit 4, showing the salary of the New York County District Attorney." Francaix shows Yates documents. "Are these accurate?"

"Yes."

"And yet, you would not be able to say that every disabled person gets a federal pension, a salary from the borough of Manhattan, _and_ a complimentary nursing aide at work; is that correct?"

"Objection," says Barba. "Argumentative."

"Let me rephrase," says Francaix. "Without these benefits, you would even be a greater burden on your family."

"And you think I should die?" asks Yates, looking directly at Heather Fitzmaurice. "You want to make all disabled people to go away, right? To just disappear, so they don't have to remind us how vulnerable we are? Well, if you believe in your holy mission to rid this world of disabled people, then start with me! I'm right here! Go ahead, strangle me to death! I won't stop you! I can't stop you! Do you have the strength to follow through your convictions?"

"You're damn right I do!"yells Fitzmaurice, standing up at the defense table.

"Order!" yells Judge Ross bangs the gavel. "With all due respect, Mr. Yates, you are here as a witness, not a prosecutor," she says to the district attorney.

The jurors stare at the defendant for half a minute as she sits down. Memories surface in her mind, memories of her sister entering the world, memories of how the burden of caring for her little sister turned her mother into a monster.

"No further questions," says Lorraine Francaix.

"The People rest their rebuttal case," says Rafael Barba.

"The witness may step…" Jamie Ross stops herself. "Bailiffs, please help the witness into his wheelchair," she requests.

Two uniformed bailiffs lift Alvin Yates, placing him in his wheelchair.


	9. Chapter 9

OFFICE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEY ALVIN YATES

"I wish I could tell you how sorry I am in putting you through that," says Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba, sitting in front of the desk inside the district attorney's private office.

For a minute the man who had been Rafael Barba's boss for the past two years stays silent, sitting in his wheelchair behind the desk.

"The very legitimacy of my existence was questioned before a judge and jury," replies District Attorney Alvin Yates. "I was judged, not what I had done or for what I was about to do, but for what I couldn't do. Defense counsel all but said I should be killed because I was burdening society, that I was some sort of useless eater nobody needed. That I was nothing more than a parasite sapping the strength of humanity."

"I just thought.."

"But we're trial lawyers, Raf," Yates interrupted. "We both asked witnesses uncomfortable, even offensive questions. Many of them broke down on the stand. It goes with our jobs. If I can not stand being questioned like that by one of my own prosecutors, I should move this joystick, because I would not deserve to sit behind this desk."

"Thank you, sir."

"You have closing arguments to work on. My daughter has a gymnastics performance tonight."

Barba stands up and walks towards the office door.

"One more thing," says the district attorney.

"What is it?" asks Barba.

"Just because I professionally approve of your conduct does not mean I have to like it."

Barba walks out of the private office and into the main office. He sees a brown-haired woman in casual clothes.

"Are you Rafael Barba?" asks the woman.

"Yes," answers the prosecutor.

"I'm Donna Bullard, the wife of Detective Sam Bullard. We need to talk."

Ooooooooo

SUPREME COURT

CHAMBERS OF JUDGE JAMIE ROSS

EX PARTE HEARING

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27

"This is quite an unusual request," says Judge Jamie Ross.

Rafael Barba is sitting in front of the judge's wooden desk. Mrs. Bullard had sworn an affidavit. He asked for an _ex parte_ hearing with Ross; the judge had been indulgent enough to entertain the hearing.

"I need the closing arguments to be held in abeyance so you can take time to consider whether or not the People should be permitted to reopen the case and put Donna Bullard to the stand.," says the assistant district attorney. "She will testify how Sam Bullard went behind her back to kill her son. I do nopt ask for a decision now; I merely ask that closing arguments be held in abeyance so that defense counsel can respond to my request to have Mrs. Bullard testify, and for this court to be able to consider all relevant arguments before making its decision."

"For a party to reopen its case after resting requires extraordinary circumstances," replies Ross. "And a witness coming in at the eleventh hour is not an extraordinary circumstance. It will be a waste of time to ask defense counsel for its arguments. As you are unlikely to succeed in winning a motion to reopen your rebuttal case, the emergency motion to hold the closing arguments in abeyance is denied. Your only option is to go to the appellate division."

Two hours later, Barba speaks with Yates over the phone.

"Appellate division denied our motion just like that," he says. "In my opinion, I doubt the Appeals Court in Albany would do anything except throw my request for a hearing in the trash. I've been working on closing arguments right now."

Oooooo

SUPREME COURT TRIAL PART 9

CLOSING ARGUMENTS

THURSDAY, AUGUST 28

"We agree with the prosecution that our client, Heather Fitzmaurice, stopped the heartbeats of the children listed in the indictment," says Lorraine Francaix. "What we dispute is whether or not any lives have been ended. Merely just taking in oxygen and nutrition is not life.

"Imagine being unable to walk, unable to talk, unable to clean yourself after going to the bathroom. Imagine being dependent on the whims of others. There are very few people whom we would want this fate upon. Now imagine learning that your child would be like this. We all have high hopes for our children. We want them to graduate high school, go to college or serve with honor in the military. Maybe both. We want them to get married and give us grandchildren. But sometimes children are robbed of these opportunities. They will never unable to do anything. They will never be able to feed themselves, clothe themselves, take care of themselves. They will never find love, nor get married, nor will they ever be able to take care of children of their own. They find themselves excluded from the very things too many of us take for granted. They are vulnerable to perverts and creeps who would abuse them with impunity. They are effectively sentenced to life imprisonment without parole.

"No court would order the state to maim a convicted criminal, not even if the criminal in question was proven beyond any doubt to have plotted to crash those airplanes into the Twin Towers. If we can not condemn terrorists to such a thing, how much more could we not condemn children who have done nothing wrong?

"The prosecution emphasized that the murder statutes have no mercy killing exception. We do not dispute that. But the legislature that enacted the murder statute, way back before the presidency of George Washington, could not have foreseen these situations. They could not have imagined ventilators or feeding tubes that would keep hearts beating and lungs breathing, while trapping people in a living hell that can not be called life. They could not have imagined that there would be thousands of children draining the time and money of their parents, just to have nothing more than a heartbeat. What kind of life is that? How can that be life?

"The prosecution could argue that we must abide by the legislature's decision, that a change in law can only come from legislative action. But you have the power to correct their mistakes. Courts have struck down segregation in public schools. They struck down bans on interracial marriage. They struck down gun control laws. Now I ask you to follow our tradition, and strike down these laws that force helpless kids in a torturous existence.

Francaix pauses for a moment. Some of the jurors glance at each other.

"I note that none of you have disabled children. If you are unwilling to adopt a completely disabled child, to sacrifice the time and money needed to keep them breathing, then you can not in good conscience convict Heather Fitzmaurice. You can not insist that other families bear this burden. Your only moral choice would be to vote not guilty."

The jurors look at the defense attorney. Some of them clearly sympathize with her arguments.

Oooooooooo

"My colleague, Lorraine Francaix, played to your sense of compassion," says Rafael Barba, speaking in his rebuttal argument. "There is nothing wrong with compassion. There is nothing wrong with feeling sorry for those among us who are completely disabled, unable to do anything to care for themselves. She played to your sense of empathy. These past few days have certainly reminded you of how fragile we are, how our lives revolve around being able to see, hear, walk, talk. How our lives would drastically change if these were taken away from us. And she played to your sense of fear. None of us would want to become absolutely helpless.

"And I agree that none of us would choose to have children who are completely disabled. Even those among us who adopt completely disabled children would move Heaven and Earth for the chance to give their children a normal life. And there's nothing wrong with that. That's our empathy, our compassion."

The jurors exchange glances as the prosecutor's words sink in.

"But we must temper our empathy and compassion with morality and the rule of law. We the people have chosen that life is precious, that it can not be legally taken away absent specified exceptions. And there is no exception for mercy killing.

"Now, with few exceptions we can not be forced to receive medical care, even if such refusal would result in our deaths. Maybe some of you, if you end up completely disabled, would refuse a feeding tube or a ventilator and die as a result. And there is nothing wrong with that. That is not suicide. You would simply be refusing to take affirmative acts to keep yourselves alive.

"But then I must remind you that the defense presented absolutely no evidence that any of the children Heather Fitzmaurice killed wanted to die. None of them communicated a desire to refuse to eat, or to drink, or to refuse to breathe oxygen. In all the testimony and evidence presented by the defense, there is not a scintilla of evidence that these children wanted to stop life-sustaining treatment. Heather Fitzmaurice and their caretakers made that decision for them. They were trusted to make the right decisions in the children's best interests, and they betrayed that trust.

"The defense's entire thesis is that a disabled life is no life at all, that it has no worth, and we- the disabled, their families, and society- are all better off if they were all humanely put to sleep. But Alvin Yates, the Manhattan District Attorney, who is completely disabled, testified to you about his life, about the value of his life. He challenged the defendant to kill him, to carry out her philosophy. The defense called only third parties to testify about the lives of other people; the People called someone whom the defense would claim was actually helpless and completely dependent on others.

"To find Heather Fitzmaurice not guilty is to find that the most vulnerable, most helpless among us, are to be killed because they are a burden, they are inconvenient, they are useless eaters. If you are considering that argument, if you are considering a not guilty vote, if you are considering letting Heather Fitzmaurice go, can you walk up to District Attorney Yates, elected with 54% of the vote, in front of his colleagues, friends, and family, and tell him, to his face, that he is a useless eater, a burden on humanity, that we would all be better off if we killed him? If you can say such a thing without reservation, without hesitation, then vote not guilty. If you can not, that means you rejected the defense's arguments and you have concluded that Heather Fitzmaurice is a murderer."

The jurors exchange more glances.

Ooooooooooo

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba, Detective Sergeant Olivia Benson, and District Attorney Alvin Yates go up the ramp leading from street level to the entrance of the courthouse. They had all been informed that the jury in _People v. Fitzmaurice_ had reached a verdict.

Just outside, crowds gathered to hear the verdict. Many of them are supporters of Heather Fitzmaurice, holding signs in support of the defendant. Others are reporters from various newspapers, including the New York Times, and NYPD officers- both uniformed and plainclothed- stand watch.

"Sam Bullard is among her supporters," says Benson, looking at one of the men in the crowd

They go through the entrance, passing through security, They go along the corridors and enter the courtroom.

Barba puts on his coat and takes his place at the prosecutor's table. He glances at Heather Fitzmaurice and her lawyer, Lorraine Francaix, and then at Benson and Yates and the other spectators. He notices Donna Bullard.

There is very much tension in the room. The courtroom is filled with murmurs.

One by one, the jurors enter the courtroom and sit in the jury box. They all glance at the defendant.

Fitzmaurice looks at them too. Her heart races. The uncertainty raises her blood pressure. She profusely sweats.

An envelope is handed from the jury to the judge.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asks Judge Jamie Ross, clad in her black robe.

"We have, your Honor," replies the jury foreman, dressed in a suit.

"How do you find?"

The tension in the room rises to its breaking point in anticipation of the climax. Jury verdicts have always been stressful, even for experienced litigants.

"On the first count of the indictment, first degree murder of Claire Duffield, we find the defendant, Heather Fitzmaurice, guilty."

Heather Fitzmaurice sits down, her face showing defeat.

The verdicts for the other murder counts are read. All of the verdicts are guilty.

"Defendant is remanded to custody pending sentencing," says Ross. "Bail shall be refunded. This court thanks the jury for its service. Court is adjourned."

The judge bangs the gavel as bailiffs handcuff the defendant and take her away.

Ooooooo

Uniformed officers lead a handcuffed Heather Fitzmaurice out through the prisoners' entrance to the courthouse towards the bus that will take her to Rikers Island, a jail operated by the New York Police Department. Feelings of resentment against the disabled surface in her mind. She feels that first that these people ruined her childhood, and now they ruined the rest of her life. She feels that it is so unfair.

A crowd had gathered against the chain link fence, holding signs in favor of her.

"You're our angel of mercy, Heather!" calls out Sam Bullard. "We love you!"

Elsewhere outside the courthouse, Barba, Benson, and Yates descend the wheelchair ramp. At the bottom, they are greeted by a crowd of people, most of them sitting in wheelchairs. Barba notices Donna Bullard among them.

A middle-aged man with gray-and-brown hair under a billed cap, sitting in a wheelchair, a plastic tube running from his nose to an air tank, looks at the three of them.

"Thank you," he says in a soft voice.


End file.
